


Old Dogs, Same Tricks

by Castillon02



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: M/M, Retirement, Sharks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 06:16:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20092633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castillon02/pseuds/Castillon02
Summary: Felix and James are retired and looking for an excuse to get up to something.





	Old Dogs, Same Tricks

**Author's Note:**

> For 007 Fest 2019

“Felix,” Bond said, “I’m retired.” 

“You think I didn’t hear about that? National intelligence fetuses in the womb heard about that. I won fifty bucks for each of your fifty years in the old office’s pool.” 

In the background, waves lapped against wood, the high cries of shore birds echoed, and Felix’s feet thump-clunk, thump-clunked against the deck of a boat. The CIA had paid for pretty good prosthetics before cutting Felix loose.

Bond glanced at his computer screen, where he was triangulating Felix’s call. Felix was in San Francisco. After the amputations, his new profession had taken him all around the western seaboard—as far away from D.C. as you could get in the continental U.S., which was fair. Bond had moved back up to Edinburgh after Six had booted _him_ out. 

Felix continued, “I figure even old, almost-dead retired folks might like to have some fun once in a while. And it just so happens that I have a lead on a shark-finning case.” 

Oh, God; Bond should have known. “They tried to eat you!” he said. “How did that turn into you becoming a shark rights activist?” 

“Shark _welfare_ activist,” Felix corrected primly. “And it wasn’t the fish’s fault that it had been starved and trained to eat human flesh, it was the fault of that sonofabitch you gutted for me. Besides, the agency’s got a client who pays pretty well for shark finners. Something about efficiency and food waste, and the fines for offenders amounting to peanuts. One of those bleeding heart Silicon Valley types.”

“So you want me to fly across the Atlantic to help you take down a gang of shark butchers,” Bond said. 

“I want you to fly across the Atlantic so we can beat up some bullies together, yeah,” Felix said. “If you’ve still got it in you. You’re retired, after all.” 

Bond had only been retired for six months and he’d been wanting to kill someone who deserved it for two. His landlady had started teaching him how to crochet, for fuck’s sake. 

(It was really going to fuck with Q when he got a crocheted Walther PPK in the mail.) 

“I suppose I could come and make sure you don’t fall in again,” Bond said. 

“Uh-huh,” Felix said. “Sure.” He hung up. 

A moment later, Bond’s email pinged with his ticket details. Economy, but Bond supposed that was what you had to deal with when you were a civilian. 

A moment after that, he got another email: 

_Steak when you get here? _

This was their old tradition: Felix always treated Bond to a meal when Bond went Stateside, but it was steak when Felix was offering something physical to go with it and seafood when he wasn’t. 

_Wouldn’t miss it_, Bond wrote back, smiling. 

Some things had changed after retirement, but he and Felix could still get up to their same old tricks. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3 Constructive criticism is welcome.


End file.
